


A Marvellous High Mystery

by syrupwit



Category: Sunless Sea
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-13
Updated: 2018-07-13
Packaged: 2019-06-09 15:05:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15270102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/syrupwit/pseuds/syrupwit
Summary: Phoebe, in Naples and beyond.





	A Marvellous High Mystery

The tread of her foot feels light, impossibly light. The dust of earth -- dry, bright earth -- is stirred like blood in water, Storm's flurries, grains of sugar in hot tea. She almost offers to carry her own bag. Everything here is alive. It makes her feel like she could be, too. But she's still weak, though her hands have steadied, and the boatswain has always been kind. 

The captain gives her a grim little nod, and she pretends not to notice the tears that form in their eyes at her kiss. They haven't taken well to the surface. Worries weight them. They'll go back through Avernus, and they'll live out their days in the Neath. They'll find glory, but only in the Unterzee. She has seen it. Or maybe it wasn't her, maybe... But no matter. There isn't enough of her remaining to be concerned with such things for long. They were kind to her. They were all kind to her, the zailors. She's ready to accept that. 

Up the steps, boarding. The handrail is warm like the sun at her back. She finds a compartment in the rear and sits alone, confident that her bandaged face will scare off any would-be companions. She spends the train ride squinting through a gap in the heavy curtains, amazed at what she sees. A tremulous attendant brings her cups of tea and coffee, wine and water... She can't bear more than a sip at a time, even of the water. It passes the hours. She's tired.

Corinth is not the Corinth of her grandmothers. Greece is not the Greece that she expected. The air's salt smell is not the smell she -- it doesn't matter. She rents a cottage with her few remaining funds and finds a job in the village curing minor ills. She's almost happy, for a while, in spite of her loneliness.

Then one night, the clouds boiling above the cliff release their vapor, and she hears the voice of her god again.

There is no ending for her, yet. It isn't over.


End file.
